The English Amongst the Persians

 My Persian 19th-century rabbit hole was sparked again when I picked this book up in a secondhand bookshop in York. Written by Sir Denis Wright, a former UK ambassador to Iran, it covers relations between Britain and Iran from the 18th-century Qajar dynasty to the 1921 coup. He apologises for the title, as the diplomats were not all 'English', although that is what they were called. Equally, the British used Persia when Iran would be more commonly used locally.

At least until the 20th century, the underlying story was the rivalry between an expanding Russian Empire and British colonial interests in India. Iran was being steadily pushed out of the Caucasus by Russia in a series of wars and looked to Britain to help modernise its army. However, British interests did not always coincide, and Iran was dumped when British-Russian relations were positive. This happened at the end of the Napoleonic Wars and again in the run-up to the First World War.

Much of the book is devoted to diplomacy and the stories of the challenges faced by various diplomats. The more interesting chapters cover military aid, which mostly came from the Indian army. For example, in 1812, 25 British officers and 50 other ranks, and sepoy escorts. The aid included muskets and artillery. They also fought against the Russians at the Battle of Sultanabad in 1812, where one British sergeant was killed. The British troops withdrew from the conflict when the news of peace with the Russians came through in 1813.

British interests have always been the primary consideration in relations with Iran. When they clashed in 1856, the British fought the short Anglo-Persian War, enabling them to effectively occupy parts of the Persian Gulf. This would become even more important when oil was discovered, and Indian troops (including the Bengal Lancers) would supplement local tribal levies, recruited with little consultation with the Iranian government. The Persian coast was a valuable base for actions against the pirates based in the Gulf. Similar actions were taken to curtail the slave trade and limit Iranian incursions into Afghanistan. By 1921, Britain had 21 consulates in Iran, which played their part in the Great Game with Russia throughout the second half of the 19th century. 

Although Iran was neutral during the First World War, her sympathies were with the Germans fighting Russia. Britain fought to defend its oil terminals at Abadan, which were vital to the Royal Navy. 3,600, mostly Indian troops, died in Iran. The British arrested the German consuls, although one of them, Herr Wassmuss, escaped and raised local tribesmen against the British. The 'German Lawrence' looks like an interesting story if I can avoid another rabbit hole!

For the military history reader, there probably isn't enough in this book to justify the effort. Prices vary considerably, but if you are interested in the region and there is obvious current affairs relevance, then it might be worth a library request.

My 15mm Qajar Dynasty infantry

Hazzard's Convoy

 This is the fourth book in Jonathan Spencer's series, which focuses on the exploits of marine officer William John Hazzard in the Mediterranean during the Revolutionary Wars. It seemed appropriate holiday reading, as I was in Marmaris Bay, the site of Abercromby's preparation for the invasion of Egypt.

This story covers the period in the year before Abercromby's invasion, up to the Battle of Heliopolis. Napoleon has just abandoned his army in Egypt, leaving a very disgruntled Kleber in command. As Kleber himself put it, ‘The army is at half its strength… disease is prevalent, and the soldiers are in rags…When Bonaparte sailed, he did not leave a penny in the till, nor any cash equivalent. On the contrary, he left a deficit of almost 10 million… The soldiers’ pay in arrears accounts for 4 million alone. […] He saw the fatal crisis approaching.’

The story also touches on naval actions in the Adriatic, the subject of my book The Frontier Sea, particularly the prospects of a fleet built in the Venetian shipyards. The key French ship opposing Hazzard in the story is Généreux, a ship of the line that escaped from Corfu. Historically, the threat from Venice was much more serious later in the Napoleonic Wars, so much so that the Royal Navy had to send its own ships off the line to deal with it.

Hazzard is no ordinary marine officer. He commands a small unit of marines allocated to special missions, part of the nascent intelligence operations of the period that are commonplace today. The story style is very Sharpe-like, and his exploits are even more unlikely. Some naval actions are bordering on the absurd, but this is fiction. I won't spoil the story by giving the details, but it has all the features you would expect in this genre. 

Overall, it's a grand tall tale, not to be taken too seriously. It got me through the flights on holiday.

It also inspired last week's midweek game using Rebels and Patriots rules. The French contested a British landing in Egypt. My marines are considerably more uniformed than Hazzard's piratical command. However, unlike Hazzard, they were thrown back into the water. In fairness, that probably has more to do with my generalship!

Beçin Castle

 I have saved the best of my Türkiye trip for last. This was a long haul inland to the city and castle of Beçin, near Milas in the Mugla province. It was around two hours driving from Marmaris, up good if steep roads. It is only 30 minutes from Bodrum if you are staying there. The first photo is from the village below, and the second is from the city above, indicating how the site dominates the surrounding plain. It reminded me of Stirling, although at 35C, it was a bit warmer!

The site was occupied since the Hellenistic period, and a modest Byzantine church indicates the settlement continued into the medieval period, probably named Pezona. At the end of the 13th century, it was captured by the Menteşe Beylik, becoming the capital of the Beylik, and it expanded rapidly. This frontier state was established by the Oghuz Turks after the decline of the Seljuk Sultanate of Rum. The majority of the surviving buildings originate from the 14th century. In the 15th century, the beylik of Menteşe was annexed by the Ottoman Empire, and its importance started to decline.

A decent road brings you up to the plateau and the car park. You can wander around the city ruins, but the castle is being restored. The last photo shows the work so far, which looks very impressive.

The city itself has the ruins of mosques, hamans, inns and the outer walls. 

The Ahmet Gazi Madrasa (religious school), has been reconstructed. It was named after the Bey who commissioned it and dates from 1375. There are informative displays in Turkish and English, which explain how the madrasa operated and fitted in with other schools in the region. 

 When the castle repairs are completed this will be an excellent example of early Turkish fortification. Even in its current condition it was worth the trip.

Amos and Stratonikeia

 Two trips to finish the holiday. On Saturday, we travelled down the coast from Marmaris to the ancient city of Amos. It was an hour's drive over decent, if winding, roads through the hills. You can understand why communication was by ship in ancient times! This was an outpost of Rhodes, and the inhabitants of the Rhodian Peraia, and thus Amos as well, were full Rhodian citizens.

The city was built on a hill overlooking the bay and harbour. The walls are relatively well preserved, if overgrown, at around four metres high by two metres deep. There is a good path and steps up to the top, from which you get a great view over the bay and back into Marmaris Bay. 

Excavation work is currently focussing on the small amphitheatre and parts of the walls. 

We drove down to the bay, which would have included a harbour. On the way back, you get a decent view of the site, including the harbour fortress on the bottom right of this photo.

On Sunday, I drove inland to Beçin Castle (more later), and on the way back, I stopped off at Stratonikeia, another ancient city being excavated. It is near Yatagan in Mugla province, just off the main road. The Seleucids changed the name (after Antiochos' stepmother), but there had been a settlement here before then, as far back as the Carian period. What's interesting about this site is the wide range of owners who all left their mark, and people still live amongst the ruins. This was a large city, as the amphitheatre could accommodate 12,000 people.

 The buildings from the Emirates period (14th and 15thC) are also visible and, in some cases, refurbished. These include the mosque and the Seljuk bathhouse.

Five families still live in the village. This is the main street.

If you stay on the coast, as most tourists do, it is a bit of a hike and climb up to this part of Tūrkiye, although the roads are very good. The administrative capital is Mugla, which has a museum with some of the findings from Stratonikeia. Sadly, it was temporarily closed when I arrived, but this is an attractive modern city with a fine Ataturk statue. I also found a good bookshop with a history section, a toyshop selling jigsaws for my wife and, crucially, a traditional cake shop! 

Romania 1944

 This is a new title in the Osprey Campaign series by Grant Harward. While Romania's role as a German ally against the Soviet Union has been well covered, the actions just before and after switching sides in 1944 are less well-known. While they are mentioned in books on the Hungarian campaign, a book in this concise format is very welcome. David Glantz's Red Storm Over the Balkans: The Failed Soviet Invasion of Romania, Spring 1944, is excellent, but not for the faint-hearted!

Grant starts with a concise overview of how Romania entered WW2, reminding us that it wasn't inevitable that they joined the Axis and got little thanks territorially. Romania was essential to the German war effort providing most of the oil for the Nazi war machine. The King also made peace overtures after Italy surrendered in 1943. 

The Soviets arrived in March 1944 while many of the best Romanian troops were still in Crimea, supported by Allied bombing. Even so, the Romanian front saw heavy fighting, and the Soviets had to allocate additional forces and a second offensive to break through. By the end of August, the King led a coup against Marshal Ion Antonescu and quickly declared war on Germany. A German-led counter-coup failed. An excellent little detail in the book is when the King arrested Antonescu and his deputy, both were locked in a large wall safe where King Carol II used to keep his stamp collection. German resistance continued, particularly the 5th Flak division around the vital Ploesti oilfields. 

The Soviets fully secured Romania on 12 September, and the Soviet–Romanian Armistice consisted of 20 articles requiring Romania, among other things, to provide 12 divisions to fight Nazi Germany. Romania’s holy war against ‘Judeo-Bolshevism’ became an ‘anti-fascist crusade’. The action shifted to Transylvania, with all Romanian units allocated to the 2nd Ukrainian Front, which helped defeat a joint Hungarian and German counterattack. These were mainly cobbled-together units of young recruits, other than the Soviet 1st Tudor Vladimirescu Romanian Volunteer Infantry Division, recruited from POWs. This Front eventually overran Hungary, but that is another campaign.

As is usual with the Osprey Campaign format, we get biographies of the principal commanders of the Romanian, German, Soviet, and American 15th Air Force operating from Italy. Then, the opposing forces, including detailed orbats for the defence of Romania in August 1944. The chapter on opposing plans reminds us that USAAF bombers also operated from Soviet airfields. The Soviet naval landings on the Black Sea coast are another interesting aspect of this campaign. The campaigns are all explained with excellent maps and illustrated with action colour plates by Johnny Shumate. There isn't much on the Romanian forces because another Osprey on the Romanian Army in WW2 provides that detail.

The former battlefield of the second Iaşi–Chişinău offensive today stretches across three countries: Romania, the Republic of Moldova, and Ukraine. The chapter on the battlefields today provides a valuable starter for the visitor, including Bucharest and Transylvania. I haven't been there for years, and I should return.

For the wargamer, Romanian WW2 troops are available in most scales. I have them in 15mm, and the Great Escape Games range in 28mm is good. They come in mixed packs with helmets and caps, the latter of which I pinched for my WW2 Turks.

Rhodes Town

 Yesterday, we took a ferry from Marmaris to Rhodes. Although it's only an hour away, the trip takes nearly three hours each way, thanks to obsolete ferry booking systems and passport control. That leaves much less time than I hoped, but still enough to explore the walls and visit the main museums. 

Founded in 408 BC, Rhodes Town grew in wealth and influence through its strategic location at the crossroads of the Aegean and Mediterranean seas. It became famous for the Colossus of Rhodes, one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World, which stood near the harbour until it was destroyed by an earthquake in 226 BC.

After the Roman period, Rhodes became part of the Byzantine Empire, but its importance waned. In 1309, the Knights of St. John (Knights Hospitaller) took control of Rhodes and turned the town into a fortified city. The knights built massive walls, castles, and the Palace of the Grand Master, much of which still stands today. Rhodes became a critical stronghold in the Crusades until 1522, when the Ottoman Empire captured Rhodes after a six-month siege. The knights were forced to leave for Malta, and Rhodes Town became part of the Ottoman Empire for nearly four centuries.

As you sail into the harbour, the iconic fort defending the mole, along with the harbour walls and gates, is obvious.

The old town is well-preserved, allowing for endless shops. I visited the Archeological Museum, which has exhibits from excavations across the island. There is not much about the military history, although many well-preserved pottery pieces have artwork of hoplites and others.

The best visit was to the Knight's Palace, an impressive fortification, but less impressive exhibits inside. The mosaics are excellent though.

There is a lovely model of a Knight's galley, which reminds us that piracy was an essential source of income.  None in the harbour, but the modern Hellenic Navy was. Roussen Class, I think.

I was pleased to see that the Ottoman period was not eradicated from memory as is sometimes the case elsewhere. This is the Suleymaniye Mosque.

I had planned to go to the Commonwealth War Graves cemetery in the suburbs. It includes 65 men who died on Kos, whose graves were moved into this cemetery from the small Kos War Cemetery, which had to be closed in July 1957. 

Overall, it was worth the effort just to see the fortifications, which are in excellent condition. Just a shame about the awful ferry system.

Battle of the Alps 1940

 Reading Jim Ring's book Hitler's War in the Alps prompted me to discover more about the Italian invasion of France in 1940. For that, I have read Marek Sobski's excellent Battle of the Alps 1940. 

The Italian Invasion of France in 1940 started on 10 June 1940, when Mussolini declared war on France and the United Kingdom. Mussolini's decision to join the war was influenced by Germany's rapid successes in its Blitzkrieg campaign through France, and he hoped to secure territorial gains for Italy. However, Italy’s military was not well-prepared for war. 32 divisions were mobilised for the invasion, although most were poorly equipped and inexperienced. Marshal Badoglio recorded his reservations about the unpreparedness for war. Mussolini replied, "Mr. Marshal, I only need a few thousand dead to sit at the peace table as a fighting party."

Italy's invasion began with air raids against southern France and the French Riviera. Ground forces stationed in the Alps moved slowly because of rugged terrain, inadequate equipment, and stiff French resistance. Although heavily outnumbered because troops were diverted to the ongoing German invasion in the north, French troops managed to hold back the Italians in the mountainous Alpine region.

Sobski highlights many factors that contributed to the Italian defeat. Even in June, the weather can be pretty bad in the Alps, and unfortunately for the Italians, it was poor that summer. The Alpini regiments were at least adequately equipped, but not all were trained correctly for mountain fighting. So-called 'Mountain Divisions' were just light infantry with no specialist equipment. The Italians later created assault engineers for this task.

The French had extensive fortifications (Little Maginot Line) that blocked the handful of useable invasion routes (five useable roads that the French blocked), and the Italians had insufficient heavy artillery to destroy them. The forts were built into the terrain and were very difficult to hit by bombers from the air. The Germans faced similar problems against the Maginot Line near the Swiss border and failed. They did better using Stukas against the Metaxas Line in Greece, but the much-maligned Maginot Line was an effective defence and was only defeated in May 1940 because it could be outflanked. The French XIV and XV Corps commanders were experienced Alpine officers who knew the defensive positions, and even the reservists serving in the fortress units knew the fortifications they manned perfectly. 

Mussolini got his few thousand dead, but made few territorial gains. Italy gained a small strip of land along the French Riviera, including the town of Menton, but none of the French colonies he coveted. The final chapter covers the skirmishes on the Tunisian/Libyan border, which would make an interesting what-if campaign.

There are many wargaming rabbit holes here, but thankfully, I have most of the troops needed. I am writing this on holiday in Türkiye in 30C temperatures. You have to admire the bravery of the soldiers who fought in blizzards and snow in the Alps that summer. 

Knidos

 Yesterday we drove a couple of hours from our base near Marmaris to the ancient city of Knidos situated at Cape Tekir, on the Datça Peninsula. As you can see from this Google terrain map, it was a slow journey through hilly terrain. Knidos is at the far end of the peninsular.

Diodorus claimed that Knidos (Cnidus) was founded by Greek colonists, both Lacedaemonians and Argives, and they moved to this site in the 4th-century, possibly earlier. The city's position was favourable for commerce, and the Knidians acquired considerable wealth. There was a medical school, and the city was famous for its wine and culture. They later submitted to Cyrus and Athens. The Romans took it over without a fight, and during the Byzantine period, there was still a considerable population. The ruins contain several buildings belonging to the Byzantine style, and Christian churches.

It was hot!

Strabon described Knidos as a "double city" in appearance, comprising the mainland and the island part called "Kap Krio". The city is terraced due to the mountainous structure of the land. Subsequently, the sea between the island and the mainland was filled to obtain two separate ports. The smaller port to the north was used for military purposes, while the southern port on the other side is allocated for merchant ships.

The military trireme harbour.

The Battle of Cnidus (394BC) was fought just off the coast. It appears that the Spartan fleet encountered advanced elements of the Achaemenid fleet under Conon (former Athenian admiral fighting for the Persians) and engaged them with some success. Then the main body of the Persian fleet arrived and put the Spartans to flight, forcing them to beach many of their ships. This battle ended Spartan attempts to become a naval power, losing over 50 triremes.

Finally, every decent-sized Greek city had an amphitheatre.

I didn't expect such a large and extensive excavations. There is still a lot of work to do, but the Turkish Government has made a good start. Well worth the journey. The Cnidus Lion sculpted to mark the battle isn't here. It was looted by British archeologists in the 19th-century and now rests in the British Museum. You can't miss it in the central court.